Drifting Fades
by Sparky Mira
Summary: This story is not improperly tagged it's DA.  Trust me.  This is the story of Dolores Byron, living in two worlds, hunted by life and demons while resisting the urge to become one.
1. Eudaimonia

Disclaimer: Bioware is God.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

**Drifting Fades - Chapter One**

**Eudaimonia**

Any person who looked at Dolores Byron immediately knew three things: One: that she was exquisitely beautiful; two: that she was utterly brilliant; and three: that she was completely mad. As she watched the pike move toward her eye, someone slashed her neck open chin to chest. The doctor looked surprised as she screamed. Dolores knew she was about to die. She felt the electricity move through her. Somewhere a brunette was laughing. Her body lay still as the pointed objected entered her brain. Her light was escaping. There is piece of time gifted to you right before you die. It stretches and turns as you grasp for it. It brings you a moment, just one moment of perfect clarity. In that piece of time, in that moment she knew everything. It was so easy to see her life now. Much easier to explain it.

The waves were dead; the tides were in their grave,

The moon, their mistress, had expir'd before;

The winds were wither'd in the stagnant air,

And the clouds perish'd; Darkness had no need of aid of them.

The Darkspawn ran.

-She was the Universe. (1)

"Are you a complete dolt - why would you let her speak to you like that?"

"Why shouldn't I? I don't really have a choice."

"Alexander, you are her boss. Even if you are an idiot"

"What do you want to hear?"

"I was just hoping for some of your father in you."

"I am nothing like that man. Why don't you leave me be, Mildred?"

Words were being spoken, she could hear the lips move, even if the words were muddled. Dolores reached into her sock an pulled out her pen. It was shinier than the last one. She liked shiny. She needed to write now, one of her little ones was hurt and this would heal them. There was power in words. It was not long before the surface was filled, the ink was running a bit more than she expected. It would stain the bed again.

A nurse walked into the room, eyes widened. "Dolores Byron, you are one dumb Dora!" She moved quickly to the woman, snatching the piece of glass from the young woman's hand. Producing bandages from her apron she wiped the blood off Dolores' legs. The nurse was muttering. "You are going to get me sacked, you know. Keeping this up. What are you writing all over yourself this time - eudaimonia. What does that mean anyway? Ish! This one will be needing stitches." The nurse looked up into the woman's eyes as she continued to mumble about the wounds inflicted on the girls legs. Dolores smiled at the pale white haired nurse, and decided to tell her a secret. She liked this old woman.

"Morning will come and go, but it will bring you no day. I have extinguished the stars and eaten the sun." She whispered to the pale nurse bandaging her. She turned toward the door. The big man was standing there, hiding behind its grain. She could not help but laugh at the fury she knew he wore, he was such a little man. "When passion has usurp'd the throne of reason, have ruin'd many. Passion is unjust, and for an idle, transitory gusto of gratified revenge."(2) The nurse stared at Dolores shaking her head.

The door opened, a small tingling sound emerged from Dolores' throat, a giggle. The assistant walked into the room glaring at the nurse, followed by Mildred.

He was a tall man, a little over six feet, balding with white hair combed over his head. Mr. Howard had only been working at the institution as the assistant to the chief of medicine for a week or so. His presence was felt in every cranny of the place. It was revolting to the head nurse who stood behind him.

"Why didn't you search her better? Haven't you learned since the last time?" He stared at the old woman.

"My apologies." The words came out of Winifred slowly, showing her distaste for the man.

"It would behoove you to take your job more seriously."

"I have been doing this job much longer than you have been stationed here, Mr. Howard. I do not need your guidance."

"You should behave more like Alexander. Be more dutiful" Winifred smiled at him.

"As a good man he is he is not a nurse Mr. Howard. You should not be so quick to turn against those in your employ."

Dolores cocked her head at the small man that towered above them, leaving the room. "The man that hath no music in himself, nor is no moved with concord of sweet sounds. He is fit for treasons, stratagems and spoils,"(3) Dolores smiled at Mildred as she stood up and spun around the room arms raised into the air. "For murder, though he have no tongue, will speak with most miraculous organ."(4)

"Sit back down Dolo, you mad sheba, and let me finish my work." Winifred was frowning at the smears of blood on the floor as she realized that Ms. Byron had cut up the bottom of her feet as well.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

She had that feeling again. It had been haunting her for a long time, and now it was coming back. Something was following her. This feeling never meant anything good. It couldn't bother her tonight though. She was turning 17 and Paul had offered to take her out. Paul was sexy too. She liked him. She checked herself once more in the mirror before her dad came home. She was wearing a pleated white and red skirt and had a red ribbon tying back her brunette curls to match. Her father would never let her leave the house with makeup on, but she had stashed some and a small compact in her purse. And there it was, the sound of her father's car pulling onto the drive.

"Dad!" she gave him a hug. "Paul and I were hoping to go out later tonight. We're going steady now. Would it be alright?"

"After I see your grades." A small scowl crossed her features as she handed him the paper. He took one quick look and her father was scowling back.

"It says that you were arguing with the teacher again."

"Well she was wrong. She was teaching us wrong. Somebody had to correct her. The Imperi-"

"Stop. Just stop. Dolo... I love you and have a fantastic mind. But you're arrogant. Just do the work, and one day when you are married and have children you can tell them what to do and bicker with your husband all you like."

"Sorry dad. But she was wrong. . . and if she . . . ." Her voice trailed off as she watched the look of disappointment crossing her father's face. "So I'm supposing that's a no about Paul and me then."

"You can go out tonight. When you get back home I have something to show you though." He handed her a ten "And try not to spend it all birthday girl."

"I understand Dad. You know he really is a great guy, since, well you know."

"I know. Your tastes have much improved since George was hauled off to jail. If this one starts to break any noses though I'm sending you to a nunnery."

"Thanks Dad."

She was exceptionally excited as she got into Paul's car. The feeling of dread was still there, growing as they drove down the street, but she would not let that ruin her night. He took her out dancing, then they ate at a small drive in. Heavens, he could make her laugh! She was glad that they had a chance to be alone together like this, away from friends. She kept wondering when he was going to kiss her, when his hands suddenly slid around her waist and their lips met. It was small. A chaste kiss. Then he kissed her again, and she felt his lips part. She moved in response ans felt his tongue enter her mouth exploring. That's when she froze. Something was wrong with his tongue... was it... was it forked? She opened her eyes to look at Paul, the find his own staring back at her, now yellow, round, slitted like a demon's. Shrieking, she jumped back. Her hands flew to her mouth and she looked again at . . . just Paul. He was smiling at her, his brows a bit furrowed with concern. "I'm sorry. That was a bit too fast wasn't it?"

"No, it's not - I just thought I saw..." Her voice trailed off "Look we better get home. My dad will be right upset with me if I don't get home soon."

Paul flashed her a grin that made Dolores' inside turn to jelly. "Sure thing, Sweetie."

The feeling was growing stronger. Someone was coming for her. Someone was watching her. She got back to the house, running up the steps and opened the door. Then she screamed. Her voice racketed out of her as she stood in the doorway and it wouldn't stop. Over and over. Even as Paul held her shoulders, trying to pull her away she would not move. She could not stop looking. Her father laid there, dead, his limbs stretched until the flesh peed from their bones. The pain on his face, his widened eyes, his mouth opened so much his jaw looked to be dislocated in some unheard scream filled with agony. The skin attached to him was slightly grey. Next to him was a cage with note and a bow. She forced her body to move to read the last words he wrote her. "For you Dolores, Love Dad." The canary inside the cage was dead, maimed. Only when the police showed up did she realize that Paul was still there trying to comfort her. All she could see of him were his yellow eyes, and the image of a spindly man moving through the woods.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Dolores watched as the new nurse came in to search her and her quarters before the end of the night. She looked at her carefully assessing her movements, move her limbs forward mechanically like a spider as she turns her head.

"You are like fire."

"Ah! The spouting of a mad woman, how my day grows better."

"You have no mercy in you." Dolores pauses and her eyes flicker "Each separate dying ember wrought its ghost upon the floor."(5)

"How very clever you are Ms. Byron, any more interesting stories to tell before I drug you and stop your idiotic rambling?"

"They will find me soon, they already have. I will come alive, and then I will fall. When I snuff you out, I will cover the heavens and darken their stars; I will cover the sun with a cloud, and the moon will not give its light.(6) The soul clinched in blackness that only gold can remove. You will clean my soul again Mother."

"That's very nice dear." The pale dark haired nurse moved closer and stuck her with a needle sending her into sleep before binding her wrists and ankles.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

1 Quote from: Darkness by George Byron

2 Quote from: Theognis Of Megara, Fragment XXXIX

3 Quote from: The Merchant of Venice by William Shakespere

4 Quote from: Hamlet by William Shakespere

5 Quote from: The Raven by Edgar Allen Poe

6 Quote from: The Holy Bible Ezekiel 32:7


	2. Proditor

My Beta reader has suggested that I start translating the Latin, so notes are on the bottom for you. :)

Diclaimer: Bioware is awesome and owns everything with the exceptions of my own creations.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

**Drifting Fades - Chapter 2**

**Proditor***

The palaces of crowned kings—the huts,  
>The habitations of all things which dwell,<br>Were burnt for beacons; cities were consum'd,  
>And men were gather'd round their blazing homes<br>To look once more into each other's face(1)

Dolores was screaming. Her body was arched against the bonds she was placed in, withing. Her brow knotted together as her body convulsed. She thrashed, her voice coming out broken when she did speak. Her were widely dilated, unable to focus. Her lips were cracked, bleeding as they had been bitten. Suddenly, she stopped all movement. Dolores' breathing was heavy, her face relaxed slightly before she rocked her body upward, shaking the bed and shouting one word: "Proditor"*. And her thrashing began once more.

A fearful hope was all the world contain'd;  
>Forests were set on fire—but hour by hour<br>They fell and faded—and the crackling trunks  
>Extinguish'd with a crash—and all was black(1)<p>

_I can feel their movement. Slowly, soundly they move forward. They are gathering. The strong ones grow bright. They shine. Oh how beautiful they are as they stand together. They are like stars in the sky, drifting like confetti without meaning in their order. I call to a new light that appears in greeting, before whispering to the others. I tell them all of how proud I am. My lights begin to move quickly then. They are dazzling, my lights. I see them spin and flurry as they dance with the darkness. Then the darkness begins to grow. I see them move putting out my lights. The pain does not stop. I feel every slash and stab they receive, every gouge, every twist and slam. My voice cannot be contained. I feel the confusion, the doubt, the fury my lights bring. I feel their hope and their loss. I feel every death over the hours. My lights need help. I cannot move, though. They have taken my words away and none shall hear me when I try to heal them. They are each a part of me - pure, untouched by the evil that will one day consume them, slowly grinding their flesh into a new perverted form. And now they are becoming lost. I search. My lights, all of my lights are gone. The world is dark. And faintly I see two flickering away from the others, these are light and faint. They are embodied with fear, shaking as they move in their high place. I rush in to them. I tell them to hold on, to not be lost. I command it. And it becomes so. A different kind of light carries them away. I see then, the small ones, far away now, marching, leaving. Pathetic fools caught up in their own exorbitant mess. There is some trepidation; some do not want to go. Then there is the man, he is standing glum. More dark creatures speak within his mind, I can feel his fear and how they feast off him, it does not matter though. He is small, and wicked and filled with foolish pride caressed by paranoia. He left my lights alone when he had his own he could call. I will wreak vengeance upon him such that the world will quake, no betrayal will ever come upon them again. I roar._

Dolores wakes slowly. Sluggishness of a new kind moves over her. She does not try to move in her bindings. Her head wobbles slowly, seeing three women and four men in her room speaking. She knows them all. . Her mind cannot track their words. The two nurses - Winifred, the pale haired woman, and Mildred, the dark beauty - are here. So is the councillor, long red hair is in a braid. Dolores likes that, thinks it suits her. Louise is her name, the pretty little french girl. There are new people here. They are not meant to be here yet. Time is not running properly. She tells them this but they do not listen. One is of average height and lean with slicked back blond hair, he looks like an orderly. The other is huge and burly, while the last is short for a man, but built like a barrel with the biggest beard she has ever seen. Their conversation is flowing.

Alexander was speaking. "It is my decision and it will be done. I want one nurse with her at all times and, when she is out of this room, two orderlies. She moved the bed across the room while strapped in it, and it took three times the normal amount of ether to get her to go down."

"Do you have any idea the strain this will put on us, Alexander? You haven't thought this through." Winifred spoke to him softly.

"He never thinks anything through, from what I can tell. He doesn't have the brains God gave a rock," Mildred interjected.

"You need to learn to speak with more tact, Mildred." Louise was speaking now "These women have many early morning duties, as well lots of work to do at night. Unless there is some solution that will allow them breaks from watching Ms. Byron to get their other duties done they will be overly taxed."

"I will look at the schedules then, see if I can figure out something. Do any of you gentlemen have a problem?"

"I don't got any gripes with you boss." the short hairy one belched out.

"Good to know Oscar. Steven, Zack?"

"I have no problems watching a lovely insane woman all day." Zack smiled

Steven glared in my direction. "I will not fail to subdue her should the need arise."

Dolores smiled at this. They played so nicely together. A small giggle escaped her lips, leaking out of her slowly like a volcano slowly releasing its magma before the explosion. "Dandum semper est tempus: veritatem dies aperit.(2)" Dolores smiled at them, laying her head back. Her hands moved lightly at the bindings and she smiled at the nurses. "You must set my bindings free as my tongue yearns for taste."

"It is several hours past breakfast. Should we not allow her this small courtesy?" Louise spoke looking at her.

"Fine fine, I will watch the insane woman eat. And one of two of you will join me. And you, warden, figure this out quickly. I have no wish to lose my job due to your orders. Heaven knows Mr. Howard will be quick enough to cut me if he feels I'm slacking." Mildred seemed rather perturbed that day.

"Mother will eat with me today? That is good. Nothing is so aggravating as calmness.(3)"

"I am not your mother Ms. Byron."

"I know yours. She listened to my call. Her wings stretched through the night and carried fireballs, dazzling them. Through her with me the fires are safe. And there shall be more to come."

"If you keep talking about fires they will lock you in your room for a week."

Dolores sat down at the table and turned her head, seeing her lights dazzle there. They were worried now. Something had them in distress. It was cold. They had climbed a mountain and smelled death from battles before. Other lights were with them, paler but persistent. One had become angry and was attacking her light. She roared at him, giving her light power. The other light stopped as she approached the attacker. She moved about him, swaying quickly and whispering into his ear that he must not question again. He must know his place as was his way. She could feel the power in the mountain; it was once part of her as was the world. He must obey the lights. There was shouting in a different direction - she turned her head to see attackers forming there, wearing white coats. For some reason the orderlies were very upset with her. They were shouting at her, screaming. She was perched on Steven, holding his arms twisted within her legs while she pulled his hair back, plastic knife against his throat. Someone had knocked over a table. She blinked a few times before she saw the warden walking towered her, smiling. "Dolores, it's okay. Everything is fine." She could see him then. She dropped the plastic thing and moved forwarded to him, arms spread out intent on hugging him. "Father?" She took another step and another before she was crashed to the ground by two of the orderlies. She peered up at the man adoringly, seeing the metal stinger in his hands and the tiresome liquid it held. "Father, do not make me sleep. The dreams will still come. You cannot stop them Father, please please stop them. I've missed you."

"I know, now sleep Dolo." Her head waved through the air and hit the floor.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Dolores was six years old. Her mother and father were so proud, she had gotten chosen to be the lead in her church play. She was playing Moses. It was a whole bunch of mini-plays. One week for every service for 6 weeks. This week she was going to bring the 10 Commandments down the mountain. Her Mom had made her the _best_ outfit. At the end there was a song about the Commandments, too. And she could sing pretty loud. She danced around in her Moses robe in the front yard anticipating the play.

"You know all your lines sweetie?" Her mom asked as Dolo buckled herself in.

"You betcha' Mom!"

"That's our girl" Her father reached back and rustled her hair and she smiled her biggest smile at him.

Dolores walked out onto the stage holding the grey painted wooden board standing towed the other kids she started to speak of the commandments God had had her write there. She could feel her voice expand from her softly, lyrical, then begin to boom so that all in heaven could hear her. She could see the face of the one who made them all, and sang a chant filled with light so that it may reach Him.

"These truths the Maker has revealed to me:

As there is but one world,

One life, one death, there is

But one god, and He is our Maker.

They are sinners, who have given their love

To false gods.

Though Shall have no other God before Me.

.

In My image I forge you,

To you I give dominion

Over all that exists.

By your will

May all things be done.

Thou shall make no graven images of the creatures of heaven.

.

Those who had been cast down,

The demons who would be gods,

Began to whisper to men from their tombs within the earth

Thou shall not take the Lord's name in vain.

.

For earth, sky

For winter, summer

For darkness, Light.

By My Will alone is Balance sundered

And the world given new life

Thou shall remember the sabbath and keep it holy.

.

My hearth is yours, my bread is yours, my life is yours.

For all who walk in the sight of the Maker are one

Honor thy father and mother.

.

Foul and corrupt are you

Who have taken My gift

And turned it against My children

Thou shall not murder.

.

With passion'd breath does the darkness creep.

It is the whisper in the night, the lie upon your sleep.

Thou shall not commit adultery.

.

All things in this world are finite.

What one man gains, another has lost.

Those who steal from their brothers and sisters

Do harm to their livelihood and to their peace of mind.

Thou shall not steal.

.

Those who bear false witness

And work to deceive others, know this:

There is but one Truth.

All things are known to our Maker

And He shall judge their lies.

Though shall not lie.

.

Those who had sought to claim

Heaven by violence destroyed it. What was

Golden and pure turned black.

Thou shall not covet."

.

Dolo walked back to her place in line hearing the silence there it took a moment before one the next child said his line.

"What were you thinking?" Her mother said to her. "That wasn't from the scripture! Those were not your lines! That was not part of the play! You already have a big part you don't need to call more attention to yourself!" Dolo sat in the car staring out the window, watching the figure in the woods chasing after her. It was the first time she noticed him.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Dolores was bound again, she was drowsy. Mother and father were arguing. She turned her head and fell back asleep.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

1 Quote from: Darkness, by George Byron

2 Quote from: Seneca, meaning "Time must always be given: the day discovers truth."

3 Quote from: Oscar Wilde

*Betrayer


	3. Jactura et Anima

My Beta reader has suggested that I start translating the Latin, so notes are on the bottom for you. :) She also suggested adding a synopsis of what is actually going on at the bottom. It all makes perfect sense in my head, but I'm the writer I know everything. Let me know what you think of the idea. I'm not too fond of it as I like the idea of it all unfolding.

Disclaimer: I dance jigs at night to satisfy the demons of Bioware, they own my soul.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

**Drifting ****Fades**** - ****Chapter**** 3**

**Jactura ****et**** Anima**

Happy were those which dwelt within the eye

Of the volcanoes, and their mountain-torch;

The flashes fell upon them: some lay down

And hid their eyes and wept; and some did rest

Their chins upon their clenched hands, and smiled;

And others hurried to and fro, and fed

Their funeral piles with fuel, and looked up

With mad disquietude on the dull sky (1)

The mechanical ways in which they move to made her mouth turn to a sneer. Lift fork, move arm, chew, swallow, repeat. No taste lingered in their mouths filling their sensations with ecstasy. They had no imaginations of spices plucked in the warm sun travelling in casks of earth and sea to bring them taste. Their minds could not think thoughts of salt brought to the sand by moon risen tides to be ground by dark wrinkled hands smelling of curry. "The flavor of man dwindles here, as does the taste of what you serve." Winifried looked at Dolores and sighed.

"Just a bit more Dolo, I know you dislike it, but you must eat." Dolores stared at the pale woman with her soft blue eyes, such a soft spirit lived in her. She took another taste of the goopy white stuff and sputtered it out sliding the plate away.

"Heap on wood, kindle the fire, consume the flesh, and spice it well, and let the bones be burned."(2)

"Well, we can't all be Quickwits McSmartypants now can we? You have a monopoly on cleverness, so you are aware that if you do not start to eat soon then you will be forced feed."

"The consumption is not dire. I am hearing them, watching the thought disappear with the mead." She stared at the others around her, blank faced, even while laughing, shovelling and shovelling food into their mouths. "Forever consuming not seeing, not hearing, they are beasts of the lost come to feast." Dolores placed her hands on her head, closing her eyes rocking and swaying in place, "Soon they will take my soul, and succulents will drip from their mouths." Soft hands were placed on her shoulders, softly rubbing them.

"Up we go, there you are. Up, up, up. Good girl. One foot at a time." Dolores followed the instruction until she was away from the mindless beasts. She clung to the old woman holding her, shaking slightly, she smelled like soap.

"I like your tail Winifried."

"What?"

"Your hair. I like your pony tail."

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

"The moon has awakened from it's slumber and sings to the stars" Dolores smiled at Winifred and Mildred starting out the thin slate of her window.

"Yes, it's night. What a startling observation." Mildred sighed "As I was saying Winifred, this paperwork will be taken care of for you. I just need you to keep watch on her tonight for me."

"I am tired Mildred." Winifred rubbed her eyebrows.

"As am I woman, and wishing otherwise does not make it so."

"Very well then." Mildred left the room as Winifred checked Dolores bindings and the door, settling into a chair with a sigh.

Dolores watched the moon, feeling it's soft light over the trees and within the stone walls of the castle. A fire was burning in the room, it's soft caresses moving over grey draperies. Her light was there with mother. He would be father. Dolores smelled the caresses laid upon pale skin and moans, skin moving, perspiration created from skin while dark words were muttered into the night. She could hear the power in those words, she could hear the call and the reason and the plea. The woman was strong, built like stone and fire, the man proud defined by the past and paths taken. Mother would survive and carry her, make her clean, make her free. Mother does not trifle. The words continued, said in motions rhythmic, lips uttering round words, shaken pleads. Dolores watched quietly and stroked mother's forehead. _So __quite __you __are __in __your __heart__, __how __you __hide __within __all __you __lost__. _Dolores spread her leather pointed hands over mother, talons clasping one another. She had enough of her own power to give to her for this. She let her light glow and shine through her boned form. Raising her claw she removed one of her own yellow eyes. _Jactura enim deorum anima_.* Life grew in mother now, and it would only accept one soul of the slain, she carried her fire. Dolores' limbs moved slowly, languid, through the unkempt hills feeling the dreams about her shaking until she awoke.

Dolores moved in her bindings, pain shot through her and she could feel wetness trickling on her face. Winifried was sleeping against the wall. She was in the asylum. She understood this. She also understood very acutely that she could not see out of one eye.

"Winifried! Winifried help!" The woman stirred quickly rising to Dolores. "Winifried!"

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

They had bandaged her right eye as she shook in the clinical white rooms, blood from the night had caked under her finger nails. Everything smelled of ammonia. Finally she was brought into a room with a red haired woman.

"I'm sorry, we haven't meet. I'm Dolores Byron." She stretched her hand out to the psychiatrist before her.

"I am Louise. And we have meet, several times before. Sit down Ms. Byron." Dolores grappled for the chair behind her. "Do you know what year it is? Where you are? Who is president?"

"I'm at Saint Jude's mental facility. It's 1942. Roosevelt is president."

"I hate this part." Louise sighed, "Ms. Byron, it is 1949. You have been at this facility for seven years. You are twenty four years old. Truman is president."

"The Senator from Missouri?" Dolores' mouth opened a fragment, then closed as she pursed her lips, she turned, staring out the window and shook her head. "Nec, quae praeteriit, iterum revacabitur unda; nec, quae prateriit, hora redire potest." Dolores smiled at the French woman. "I'm sorry. Ovid. 'Neither can the wave that has passed by be recalled, nor the hour which has passed ever return.' He takes over me at the best of times."

"You are quite like yourself Ms. Byron. Do you know why you are here?" Dolores stared at the woman's soft blue shoes.

"My mother brought me here after Father died. She said she needed time to gather herself, that I needed someone to talk to. Seven years though - how did this happen?"

"It's complicated how the mind works Dolores. Do you mind if I ask you a few questions?"

"Of course not."

"Were you sexually active?"

"No, I've kissed a few guys, but nothing like that."

"Are you sure, this is very important."

"I've lost seven years of my life, who knows what I have done. As far as I am aware though, I have not had sexual relations with anyone."

"Do you truly remember nothing?"

"Not a thing."

"Then tell me, what do you dream about? Can you remember anything?"

"I remember some. There are places, they are muddled. There is a forest filled with trees, and another place is a fort, it's huge, sprawling, mountains covered in snow, a castle. There are other places too."

"Tell me about them."

"It's hard to describe, like I said it's muddled. This place is like a dream, but more so. It is constantly changing and shifting but it is always the same. There is some kind of city there, but all of the lights are gone from it. It's just dark."

"It seems to me that you are searching for a powerful figure in your life, someone to replace your father. When you cannot find that connection you block out the real world, replace it with a fantasy. You need to return light to that black city. You deserve to live, just like everyone else."

"Father just died, well it feels like he died a few weeks ago. I pray sometimes. I want to go to a church. Some place calm. Light a candle for him."

"God is everywhere Dolores. He is in the wind and in the waves, in the sunlight that warms your skin, take comfort in Him."

"Thank you Louise."

"Do you want to talk about it?"

"About what?"

"Your eye. It is unlikely that you will ever see from it again."

"No, not now. It's just too much for right now." Dolores raised her hand, touching the bandage's edge at her temple. She could feel the ridges of bone rising against the soft scales of her fingertips.

"You seem very well put together. I may be able to move you to a new ward soon if our sessions continue to go well."

"No, I don't think that is a good idea. I breathe too much fire when the light returns."

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

1 Quote from: Darkness by George Byron

2 Quote From: Ezekiel 24:10

*Sacrifice of the Gods for life/ Loss of the Gods, for a soul

The title means Sacrifice and Life


End file.
